In the spring or winter of 1855, Count Pfeil, a German aristocrat, then proprietor of a farm in the neighborhood of Milwaukee, attempted to incinerate the corpse of his wife in accordance with her own request. He accordingly erected a funeral pile in his own yard, on the soil that he owned. When his intention to burn his wife became known among the farmers in the vicinity, there was a great uproar; they finally went so far as to march in a body to the residence of the count, and to declare that they would mob him if he would dare to execute the cremation. He then proposed, since the matter was creating a disturbance in the neighborhood, to transfer the incineration to the lake shore. But the prejudice of the farmers was so great that they would accept no compromise. They finally petitioned the governor, and were successful in obtaining a decree prohibiting the cremation. The count, disgusted at the lack of our boasted liberty, interred his wife, sold his estate, and departed for Europe. The third reduced to ashes in the United States was the Baron de Palm, prince of the Holy Roman Empire, a native of Augsburg, Bavaria, who was incinerated in the Le Moyne crematory at Washington, Pa., on the 6th of December, 1876. The baron had died at the age of sixty-seven at New York, in May, 1875, and his body had been immediately embalmed and placed in the receiving vault of the Lutheran cemetery, where it was kept until the Le Moyne crematorium was finished. On this day mentioned, many members of the secular press, and delegations from various scientific and sanitary societies, assembled at the crematory to witness the cineration of the defunct nobleman; many of the leading newspapers of this country, and also of France, Germany, and England, were represented. About 30 invitations had been issued, and many members of the prominent boards of health were present. The fires had been started at two o’clock in the morning. On opening the casket it was found that the weight of the body had been reduced from 175 to 92 pounds. At 27 minutes past eight o’clock, everything being pronounced ready, the body, lying in the iron cradle and covered with a shroud (which had previously been soaked in an alum solution, to prevent its too rapid ignition), and decorated with flowers and evergreen, was consigned to the retort, which was instantly shut. The actual temperature of the retort could not be ascertained, as no pyrometer was at hand; it was, no doubt, a little over 2000° Fahrenheit. Through a small opening in the cast-iron door, which closed the retort, an occasional glimpse of the interior was obtained, and the effect of the heat upon the body observed. In about 15 minutes the aqueous vapor had all been expelled, leaving the shroud completely charred, but still retaining its form sufficiently to completely conceal the outlines of the body. In an hour the outlines of the prominent bones were plainly